


Sealed With A Kiss

by Owl_Postmaster, sassy_cissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, M/M, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owl_Postmaster/pseuds/Owl_Postmaster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_cissa/pseuds/sassy_cissa
Summary: Draco made plans to celebrate their anniversary at an exclusive restaurant. Too bad Harry didn't follow directions.





	Sealed With A Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Titti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titti/gifts).



> Dear Titti, I hope you enjoy this little story. Happy Holidays.  
> Special thanks to the mods for their patience and kindness. My undying gratitude to B for the quick turn-around and constant support.

Draco paced in front of the Shard, his agitation growing by the moment. He'd called in nearly every favour he could to get a table at Oblix for their tenth anniversary dinner. True, he'd not told Potter exactly where they were dining, but any fool would recognize the address written on the parchment Draco handed Harry that morning. 

And now the wanker was late, bordering on _we'll lose our reservation_ late. Draco gave him fifteen more minutes, glanced at his watch and swore softly. It was half seven and Draco knew there wasn't a Niffler's chance in hell that they'd be seated now. Not to mention, Draco would be placed on the _this arsehole will never get a table here again_ list. 

"Fucking Potter," Draco mumbled as he turned on his heel, storming down the block. "Be on time, that's all I asked, was that too much to expect?" Draco knew no one would answer, but it made him feel better to vent to the wind. He arrived at the Apparition point and without bothering to check the area, Draco Apparated to the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic. Entering the faded red telephone box, Draco punched in the code _62442_ and waited a moment before the disembodied voice wafted out. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and your business."

Draco gave a huff, but answered. "Draco Malfoy, potions consultant and I'm looking for my damned husband, Harry fucking Potter!"

"Please refrain from coarse language Mr Malfoy or entry will not be allowed," the calm female voice reprimanded. 

It took all of Draco's will power not to growl. "Draco Malfoy, potions consultant. I'm meeting my husband, Harry Potter."

As the floor began to lower and a small badge slid silently from the coin return before the cool voice replied. "Please take your badge and attach it to your robes. And have a pleasant evening."

"I'd be having a better evening if I was enjoying a lovely Pinot Noir, rather than tracking down my errant husband, thanks ever so," Draco muttered as he exited.

He stomped to the rickety old lift and stepped inside. The lift moved down and the doors opened to Level Two. It was always a hive of activity, so Draco moved quickly towards Harry's office. At least he could close the door for his rant, Draco mused and it almost made him smile. Almost.

Draco tried to reel in his anger, but basically failed, as he approached Harry's secretary, Iris. "Where is he?" Draco demanded, all courtesy thrown to the wind. 

"Oh! Mr Malfoy! Sir," Iris stammered. "How did you know to come? I've just received word myself and was about to contact you."

Draco felt the colour drain from his face and he struggled to remain standing, as dread filled his belly. "How did I know what?"

"There was an incident," Iris continued. "Auror Potter's been taken to St Mungo's."

"There was an incident…" Draco said flatly. "What kind of incident?"

Iris looked embarrassed. "I'm afraid I don't have any other information, Sir. But you can either wait for Head Auror Robards or I can pass you straight through to St Mungo's."

"Mungo's," Draco replied. He began to walk away, stopped and turned back to the reception desk. "Thank you, Iris," he said before turning back toward the Floo that was connected directly to St Mungo's.

@@HPDM@@

Draco stepped smoothly from the Floo into the lobby at St Mungo's, moving quickly to the Welcome Witch. 

"Can you tell me where I can find Auror Harry Potter?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," the witch replied without raising her head from her _Witch Weekly_ magazine, "we're not allowed to give out information on Mr Potter."

"You supercilious moron," Draco snapped, "if you'd take one second to pull your nose out of that rag, and look at me…"

Before Draco could finish, the witch looked up. The fury Draco originally saw on her face, quickly vanished and her mouth dropped open. 

"Mr Malfoy! I'm sorry, Sir. It's just we always get reporters here whenever Mr Potter is admitted," she stammered quickly. 

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, in an effort not to hex the bint to kingdom come. "Yes, understood," he glanced at her nametag, "Maude. Now if I could please get Mr Potter's location?"

Maude had the grace to look embarrassed as she tapped her wand on the book on the desk. Writing slid into view and she ran her finger down the list. "He's on the fourth floor…"

Draco interrupted. "Spell damage then." He turned, without another word to the witch, toward the lifts muttering under his breath, "Typical Potter."

The ride to the fourth floor did nothing to assuage Draco's ire. His thoughts ran the gamut of why Harry might be in St Mungo's on the eve of their anniversary, rather than enjoying a lovely dinner at Oblix. Unfortunately, _stupid, reckless, asinine Gryffindor_ was the only reason he was able to come up with. 

He exited the lift, walking down the all-too familiar hall to the staff desk in the centre of the floor. Rooms surrounded the desk on all sides and Draco could tell from looking many of them were occupied.

"Harry Potter?" Draco asked firmly. He'd learned over the years not to show emotion to these people, nor his anger. Emotion got him five minutes of simpering over _poor Auror Potter's injuries_ and anger simply meant they would make him wait to see Harry until they felt assured his anger was in check. Better to save his wrath for when he actually saw Potter.

"We've been expecting you, Mr Malfoy," the nurse replied cheerfully. "Nothing too bad this time. In fact, Mr Potter will most likely be released within the hour."

"Bully," Draco deadpanned. "Room number?"

The young nurse started a bit, but recovered quickly. "He's in four ten, it's…"

Draco cut her off with a quick wave of his hand. "I'm sadly quite familiar with the rooms on this floor. Thank you."

@@HPDM@@

Draco stood outside of Harry's room, his hand on the knob, attempting to calm his irritation. Nothing good would come from his bursting into the room. Experience told him that lead to Harry looking like a whipped dog and Draco apologizing and Draco was damned if an apology would cross his lips tonight. 

Plastering a _smile_ on, Draco opened the door and stepped inside. "You know, Potter, if you'd have preferred not to have dinner out, there are much simpler ways to accomplish it."

Harry was sitting up in the bed, several pillows at his back. He was naked from the waist up and a large white bandage went from his left shoulder across his chest. Draco grimaced.

"Hey," Harry said sheepishly. "I didn't aim to get injured."

"You never do," Draco answered on a long sigh, "and yet here we are. Again." He crossed to the bed and laid a gentle hand on Harry's uninjured shoulder. "As opposed to having a lovely dinner of sea bass paired with a delightful Pinot Noir, at _the_ most difficult restaurant to obtain a reservation in London." He threw up his arms and began pacing the room. "It's a miracle I didn't have to offer up my firstborn to get this one, although I suspect they knew that would be impossible."

Harry started to speak and Draco stopped him with a scathing glare. He was just getting started and not even a rampaging Hippogriff was going to stop him now. 

"Not to mention that I will never, _I repeat,never_ , be allowed to set foot in Oblix for the rest of my natural life. And I doubt I'd even be allowed in as a ghost either." Draco sighed dramatically and scowled.

Harry sat silently looking at Draco. 

"That's it?" Draco queried. "You've nothing to say?"

"Oh, am I allowed to speak now?" Harry said, his dark brows lifting on his pale forehead. "I was waiting for you to work yourself into a proper strop first."

"Wanker," Draco declared.

"Occasionally," Harry countered, "but I'm hoping to not have to tonight."

Draco's eyes blazed. "I'm fairly certain you'll become quite acquainted with the task for the foreseeable future, Potter."

Harry shrugged and then gave a gasp of pain, his hand lifting to the bandage. "Shite!"

Suddenly legitimately alarmed, Draco rushed to his side. "Are you alright?"

"That's not a movement I'm going to be doing again for a day or so," Harry said, leaning back into the pillows cautiously. "I wasn't sure you gave a rat's arse right now."

Draco's face softened as he looked into Harry's eyes. Draco could see the pain in them, some of which he knew he was causing. "Of course I care, you tosser." Draco stood next to Harry's shoulder and ran a hand over Harry's mop of disreputable hair. It was worse than normal. "I was simply under the apparently mistaken impression that your promotion would pull you from the field and therefore I'd have fewer trips to St Mungo's."

Harry leaned into Draco's side. "I wasn't in the field."

Draco stepped back, looking aghast. "Merlin, Potter, don't tell me you tripped in the Ministry and did this to yourself."

Harry gave a bark of laughter. "No but it was nearly as stupid. I left work early to run an errand before meeting you for dinner. On my way out of the shop, I stepped between two teenaged boys disagreeing over who should be accompanying some young witch home. I was hit with a _trip jinx_ and tumbled into a post."

"You fell into a post," Draco said disbelievingly. 

Harry's cheeks pinkened. "Smack on my shoulder and onto the street."

Draco shook his head. "That would explain the bruise blossoming under the bandage."

"Yeah, landed on a particularly pointy trash bin, but no other damage." Harry looked sheepish. "Well other than an extremely pissed-off husband and ruined dinner plans. And the need for a new uniform coat." He gestured towards his dirty, torn Auror jacket with his head. "If you check the pocket, though, I may be on my way to being forgiven."

"Not likely," Draco muttered, walking to the coat. He pulled a box out of the pocket, then turned and stared at Harry. "You went to Paris?"

Harry nodded. "I know your favourite chocolates are from A l'Etoile d'Or. I thought I'd pop over, pick up a box to surprise you, and be back for dinner. Unfortunately, it took a bit of fancy talking to get the medi-wizards to transfer me here for treatment."

Draco stared at the slightly dented box and then back at his husband. "You thought you'd _pop_ over to Paris to get me chocolates?" He shook his head. "Merlin's balls, Potter. How am I supposed to stay annoyed at you when you do things like this?" He held up the box. 

Harry smiled. "Denise said _hello and to come see her soon_. At least I'm pretty sure that's what she said. My French has not improved, as you know."

Crossing the room in two long strides, Draco went to the opposite side of the bed, toed off his shoes, and crawled onto the mattress, settling next to Harry. "What am I going to do with you, Harry?" he said softly, resting his head on Harry's uninjured shoulder.

Harry slid his good arm around Draco and pulled him close. "Let's get out of here and I'll help you figure out that dilemma."

Draco sealed the deal with a kiss.

finis


End file.
